


Of Memos and Messages

by Reikiari



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluffy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Third-year! AU, Unfinished confessions, You've been warned, if that's even a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reikiari/pseuds/Reikiari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey Yamaguchi,</p><p>I wonder if you'll ever hear these.<br/>I wonder if you'll ever know these exist.</p><p>Probably not.<br/>I don't think I'll ever show these to you myself.<br/>They'll be my secret.</p><p>And you'll probably never know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Box

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings in the end notes. Please check there if you are cautious about triggers.

Yamaguchi Tadashi is woken up by knocking at his door. He ignores the raps the first time around, letting the sound be muffled by the heavy blanket that he pulls up further over his head. He quite enjoys the feeling of being cocooned in his blanket, something he takes note of for later reference. He hears the doorknob turning and the telltale creak of the wooden door on its brass hinges. Light footsteps pass by his bed, arriving at his surprisingly tidy wooden desk. Light steps. His mother then.

The only reason his desk is tidy is because he hasn’t touched it in ages. In fact, he probably hasn’t been out of bed in ages. Something is set down on the cleared surface, something that makes a dull sound, an undignified _clunk_. He hears the rustling of cloth as his mother brushes her hands on her apron, and the footsteps retreat to the door with just as much delicacy as before.

“Tsukishima-kun dropped that off for you,” says his mother, tone neutral but tired and seemingly hesitant to say anything more, “You may want to take a look.”

As the door clicks shut, Tadashi lifts a corner of his protective cover to peer at the mysterious package on his desk. It was a cardboard box, with nothing printed on the sides visible from his position. No decorations, no “Happy Birthday”, not that it was even close to that event. There was no indication of what could be found inside.

 _Dammit,_ he thinks, _I actually have to move._

He pulls the blanket off the bed together with his body, swinging over the edge of the bed and allowing the blanket to pile around his shoulders and around his legs. His feet don’t lift off the ground as he shuffles across his room, his soles burning slightly as he slides across the hardwood.  Tadashi pulls out his chair, wincing at the squeak that one wheel always makes when he moves it. He sits down heavily, blanket reverting back to its cocoon-like form from its state as a trailing cape. He stares at the box, wondering if it is something he should be opening. He thought he was done with this, this hesitation, this sadness. Then again, he is in his third year. He’s allowed to get emotional due to all the stress he’s being put under.

_Tsukki told me that._

Reaching for the top of the box, he catches sight of the little sticky note on the top, with slanted writing sprawling across it. **_I found this hidden away when we were cleaning. I thought you should listen to them. Please do._** Cleaning? Why would they be cle- Oh. Right. Tadashi mentally smacks himself and tries to settle himself before taking a deep breath and opening the cardboard box. He holds back a gasp as the top of the box falls back, revealing a set of familiar white headphones and an old iPod. Too scared to touch the headphones first, he reaches for the iPod, noticing yet another note, this time on the back of the music player. **_I think you should start from the beginning. Yeah, start from the very beginning._ _The password is 1110._**

  1. _1110_. _November 10._ His Birthday.



He clears his mind of any crazy ideas, deeming it a mere coincidence before unlocking the device. The screens are bare, with no extra games, no extra applications, no extra-fancy background; this was unlike Tadashi’s own devices, which are littered with games and apps he’s too reluctant to part with together with a picture of himself and Tsukki and the rest of Karasuno looking at him every time he returns to his home screen. He returns to his home screen a lot. The screen begins to dim, and Tadashi realises he has been just staring at the screen.

_What was it, I had to listen to something? Music?_

He locates the music player, opening the application, expecting a playlist of song recommendations. Tsukki gave him those rather often. “Your music is too loud, Yamaguchi,” he would say as they parted ways after practice. The next day there would be a new playlist of songs ready for him. The songs were different every time. Tadashi often wondered how many playlists he would receive until Tsukki’s extensive music library ran out.

So he's surprised when what greets him instead of a sarcastically named playlist is a strangely empty music bank.

Tadashi backtracks. His fingers swipe over the surface of the iPod. Left, right, right, left, left. He almost considers abandoning the command on the sticky note for the comfort of sleep. That’s all he’s been doing lately. Sleeping. Like it would get him somewhere.

Instead, he begins to open every application.

Calculator. How many freckles does he have?

Weather. Was it nice out? How long has it been since the last time he’s left his room?

Calendar. How much longer until graduation?

Clock. _Tick Tock Tick Tock_

Settings.

Voice Memos. _Voice Memos._

Hands shaking slightly, he opens the archive, and sees memo after memo. Almost daily recordings. Hundreds upon hundreds. Some rather short, maybe 20 seconds long, while others went on for minutes. Tadashi scrolls to the very first recording, recorded 4 years ago, in the summer of their – _his and Tsukki’s –_ last year of middle school.  He presses play.

“KEEEEI-“

Akiteru’s voice comes blaring out of the iPod, and Tadashi pauses the recording out of reflex. He glances at the pair of white headphones that sat in the box, and setting down the iPod, he removes them from their cardboard confines.  Another sticky note greets him, the same slanted writing standing out from the yellow background. _**Spares. Found these too. Thought you might want them. You can keep them.**_ The short sentences and the increasing messiness of the writing screams a mixture of emotions that Tadashi knows all too well. Tadashi fits the headphones carefully over his ears, the familiar feeling of the over-ear cushions and induced silence making pressure build behind his nose and making his eyes sting. The headphone jack slides easily into the iPod, and Tadashi migrates back to his bed with his blanket wrapped around him, iPod in hand, and headphones snug around his head. He closes his eyes, presses play, and prays this isn’t all a cruel joke that will leave him in pieces once again.


	2. Listening

_“KEEEEEEEI!”_ Tadashi can picture Akiteru running into Kei’s room and slamming the door open, probably startling middle-school Kei, who wouldn’t let it show.

“ _What.”_ As he thought, the voice of the younger Tsukishima comes through even and measured.

_“Kei, look, I found my old iPod, and I was like, hey maybe Kei would want it!”_

_“I have one.”_

_“Okay yeah, for music, but maybe you could use this one for… audio diaries or something.”_

_“You broke it, didn’t you.”_

Akiteru laughs sheepishly on the recording, a sound both Tadashi and Tsukki are accustomed to. _”No, it’s just a glitch, but the music won’t upload, so I’m gonna get a new one. Everything else works though.”_

_“What would I do with it?”_

_“Make a diary or something, Kei!”_

_“Is this one of your stupid plots to make me more sociable?”_

_“Psh no. Just talk to it. Like how you talk to that one friend of yours, Tadashi-kun.”_

_“Sounds stupid.”_

_“Just try it Kei. It wouldn’t hurt.”_

_“I really don’t think- Hey, are you recording this?”_

_“Giving you a head star- Whoa Kei!”_ There is some clatter and some more shouting before the audio track falls silent. Middle-school Kei had a slightly higher voice, and it makes Tadashi giggle as he pictures the 188 cm Kei with the voice of a middle-schooler. He scrolls down to the next one, dated for a few days after the first.

The sounds of rustling and shuffling fill his ears for a few seconds as Tsukki seems to steel himself for the recording.

 _“Hey Yamaguchi.”_ This startles Tadashi, and again he pauses out of reflex. Had Kei really taken his brother’s advice? Were all of these recordings addressed to him? Maybe, to Tsukki, he was worth no more than a journal. Hm. Tadashi restarts the audio and takes a breath where Kei does.

_“Hey Yamaguchi. This is Kei. This is awkward, but no one will hear these anyways, so it’s okay. At this point I don’t really know what to say. This is supposed to be an audio journal, but I see you every day so it’s not like there’s something to say here. That’s it for now, then I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yamaguchi.”_

Tadashi smiles. His best friend could be so dorky at times that it hurt. He can see Kei sitting in his room with the iPod on the table, speaking into it with his hands clasped in that nervous habit of his. Without hesitation, the next one is played. And then the next. And he keeps going, letting Tsukki’s voice resonate in the space between his ears.

_“Hey Yamaguchi. Our exam results are coming out tomorrow. You were nervous all day, and probably will be all night, even though I told you that even the dumbest of people can get into Karasuno. Not that I mean you’re dumb, but my brother got in to Karasuno. So you’ll be fine. I hope you’ll be fine. I don’t think I would survive Karasuno if I didn’t have anyone to mock people with. I guess I’m praying for the both of us Yamaguchi, for your sake and mine. Mom’s calling for something, so I’m going to go now. Bye.”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi. We both got in. You were really happy and you started jumping around and scrunching up your face. People were looking at you funny, but I guess it didn’t matter, because there was another kid with orange hair who got even more excited than you. So you’re fine. I’m glad we both got in, Yamaguchi. I’m… actually really happy. I’ll never say that to you in person, but when you told me you were applying to Karasuno, I was really happy. God, I hope you are never going to hear these. This is so awkward.”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi. It was the opening ceremony today. You fell asleep while standing and almost fell over. Someone poked you awake before that happened though. You asked me what club I wanted to join today. I told you I didn’t know, anything but volleyball. I really don’t want to play volleyball anymore. Maybe I’ll join the light music club. We’ll see.”_

_“You convinced me to play volleyball. You actually did it and I can’t believe I agreed. We handed in our forms today, and first practice is tomorrow. You looked really excited, but I don’t know. I don’t think you’d ever forgive me if I quit though, and if I quit, you’d probably quit even though you really like it. So I won’t. Yamaguchi, I don’t know how you did it. I hate volleyball. But if you’re there I guess it’s okay.”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi. The King and his subject are idiots.”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi. I don’t like volleyball. But I guess I’ll keep playing.”_

And Tadashi keeps smiling. He smiles as he listens to Tsukki’s recounting of the most mundane days, of practices, of funny events, of what students do in class in the rows behind Yamaguchi because Irie does some weird things with his pencils and erasers every time the teachers aren’t looking. He smiles when Tsukki describes Oikawa and Aoba Johsai – _Sparkly Idiotic King and his kingdom_ – and Nekoma – _Weird-ass cats with weird-ass hair –_ and when he describes their wins.

He listens and he listens, hidden away from reality underneath his best friend’s voice and his star-covered blanket.

“ _Hey Yamaguchi. We lost to Aoba Johsai today. Everyone was really upset. I still don’t really get it, but I guess if they expected us to actually win they’d be pretty upset. You were upset too. I didn’t like seeing you cry. I hope I never have to see it again.”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi. I have never had such idiotic people ask me for help. You’re too nice to them. If their minds are so full of volleyball that they can’t function, you don’t have to help them. They’ll fail anyways. We had another first year join us today. Yachi Hitoka-san. You probably think she’s really cute. I watched the way you looked at her today. I… I don’t know how I feel about that.”_

He listens through the first couple days of the Tokyo training camp, wondering when Tsukki had found time and the place to record these without people knowing. First year seems so long ago. But, if he knew what third year was going to bring, Tadashi would have wished to stay as his awkward first-year self forever.

“ _You’re really cool, Yamaguchi. When did you get so cool? I actually said those words to you today. It felt really weird. It’s something I would say to you here, but would probably have never said out loud. You’re really cool Yamaguchi. Sometimes I wonder why you can’t see that yourself.”_

Tadashi pauses, and realises that he was gripping the iPod so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He never forgot that day in Tokyo, that day when he spoke up for the first time and wasn’t mocked for it, wasn’t beaten down, and was actually called cool by the one who he thought was the coolest person in the world. What he would give to hear Tsukki say it again in a face-to-face conversation.

“ _Hey Yamaguchi, we play Shiratorizawa tomorrow. I’m actually nervous, not that I would ever tell you in person. If I can’t block Ushijima tomorrow, will you not think I’m cool anymore? You were really nervous today. I saw your hands shake when you served in practice, how frustrated you got with every single missed serve or receive. You’ve worked really hard. I hope you do well tomorrow. I hope I won’t let you down. I have an idea. Hopefully it works. Goodnight Yamaguchi._

_“I can’t believe we won. It was against all possible logic that we beat Ushijima. What the hell. My pinky hurts a lot and Akiteru was all over the place. I’m still not very happy with myself, but thanks for calling me cool in that indirect way that you do. I'm glad we won. I’m glad we can play together. You were really happy today. It was nice to see. Thanks for being there, and making me join the team. Thanks, Yamaguchi.”_

Laughter interrupts the silence between recordings, and he realises it’s his own. It’s a strange sound to him, something he hasn’t heard in a while. He can’t help it though. The Tsukishima on this recording was so foreign to him. It was the side Tadashi always knew Kei had, a side that was so much more straightforward about his feelings than he dared to show in real life. The recordings continue to say things he wants to hear coming straight from Kei’s mouth, and as they document their journey through nationals and into second year, Tadashi finds himself holding onto every “Hey Yamaguchi” that exits the headphones.

_“Hey Yamaguchi, I was wondering where you wanted to go for university. We’re almost third-years now. We have to think about whether or not we continue volleyball. I’ve heard rumours of you being captain after Ennoshita, and you’re definitely a better choice than anyone. After we finish exams tomorrow, we become unofficial third-years. We’re almost done. Hinata and Kageyama will probably be scouted soon. What will I do? I’m not sure. I guess I’m not sure of anything, except for the fact that the freak duo are idiots and will always be, and that- you know what, never mind. Goodnight Yamaguchi.”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi…”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi…”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi…”_

_“Hey Yamaguchi, it’s started to get cold and we’re almost done. All that’s left is exams and volleyball. We’re almost graduating, and who knows where we’ll end up. Maybe we’ll end up going to Tokyo, Osaka, Hokkaido, Kyoto, who knows. I’ve decided though. I’ll tell you soon. Hopefully it won’t be too late.”_

Tadashi stares at the bright screen, finger hovering hesitantly over the last recording on the iPod. Does he want to hear this? Can he bear to listen to this?

He presses the screen, and the seconds begin counting.

_“Hey Tadashi,”_ **Tadashi.**

Tsukki never called him Tadashi.

 _“You know what, I’m making this a video.”_ Tadashi has never changed apps so fast in his life. There is a single video on the iPod, showing Kei’s face and nothing else. He misses this image so much. The black rimmed glasses, the pale skin, the piercing golden-brown eyes, the blonde hair that stuck up in twenty directions at once even as it grew longer.

 The Tsukki on the screen is looking straight at him, serious look in the place of his casual smirk. The dim rays of morning light are filtering through Tsukki’s room, giving Tadashi the chills. He knows which morning this was recorded.

_“Tadashi, I’ve decided I’m going to tell you today. You’ll probably think that I’m totally uncool, and honestly, all I can see is this going badly. I’ve never told you here, because it didn’t feel right. But I will tell you today, Tadashi._

_I will tell you that I love you.”_

And as Kei’s arm reaches to turn off the camera, Tadashi is throwing off the covers, removing the headphones, and running out of his house. He only catches himself to put on a pair of shoes, not bothering to even pull a jacket off the wall. He hears his mom shouting his name but it sounds so far away. Unaware of his surroundings, he crashes into someone, the person’s jet black hair and blue eyes not registering in his mind at all. “Yamaguchi?” says their companion, but Tadashi doesn’t hear them. He keeps running and running, squeezing his eyes shut as he sees the small vase holding a single flower perched on the street corner.

In the darkness he sees the same vase on a desk in the back corner _. He was always too tall. He was always in the back corner. I could never see him. I can never see him._

Tadashi does not need his tear-filled eyes to see as his feet guide him to the Tsukishima’s front door. Someone has seen him coming, was probably waiting, and has held the door wide open. Tadashi runs straight into them, collapsing, his full weight dropping the person onto the floor with their arms wrapped around the freckled boy.  

“How did you- How did- why-“

“It was his password for everything. Variations of November 10th. Easiest thing for him to remember, and something he would never forget.”

“Did you- Did he-“

“I did. He truly did. I’m sorry.”

And all Tadashi could do was cry.

 

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Character Death, Car Accidents
> 
> I'm sorry. I should be studying but this came to mind and had to happen. There were too many Tsukkiyama fics where Yamaguchi dies. So I flipped it around. I'm Sorry. 
> 
> Characters all belong to Furudate Haruichi.


End file.
